


grown tired of this body

by prettydizzeed



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Author is disabled, Chronic Pain, Disabled Character, Fluff, M/M, Walking Canes, brief mention of fetishization, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 05:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14098260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettydizzeed/pseuds/prettydizzeed
Summary: Everyone assumes the wound is from the war.





	grown tired of this body

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bright_Elen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bright_Elen/gifts).



> the marvelous Bright_Elen (go read her work if you haven't already, it's great) bought me a new cane (which is amazing, the handle is so much more comfortable than my other one and it's so pretty, which always makes me feel better about having to use it) so instead of writing a thank you note like a normal person, I wrote this
> 
> title is from "Body" by Mother Mother which is a disabled mood

Everyone assumes the wound is from the war. People practically fall over in their haste to open doors for him at least three times a day, and strangers on the street call out “Thank you for your service” more often than hello. If Cassian had ever had the patience to begin with to explain that this is due to his shit genes, not his career path, he'd have lost it within the first few weeks of condescending comments and unabashed stares.

Draven is one of the few who's never looked at him with pity, up until the moment when he quietly announces that he's taking Cassian out of the field permanently.

“It's too dangerous,” he says, apologetic. “People start talking about a man with a cane they've never seen before who appeared shortly before a major breach of security, someone's going to piece it together pretty kriffing quickly. It's too recognizable a detail.”

“You’ve done good work, Andor,” he says, “It's hard to lose you,” and before Cassian can protest that he isn't gone, that he wants to _continue_ to do good work, Kay is very lightly pressing into his side, which Cassian knows is code for, _You gave Bodhi your word that you wouldn't repeat that stunt on Endor._ And, okay, it was foolish to go in there without a cane at all, even if he wasn't planning on using it, but he'd just been so fucking frustrated—which didn't improve after limping to the ship leaning on a fallen tree branch, palms rubbed raw, and listening to Kay berating him and Bodhi worrying the whole flight home.

So Cassian says, “Thank you, sir,” instead, and goes to get drunk.

 

The bar isn’t his favorite, but it’s the only one with chairs low enough for his foot to touch the ground so his knee doesn’t scream at him the whole time. The lighting is always too low, like they’re trying to disguise the mold beneath the excuse of atmosphere, but at least the drinks are strong.

Cassian is halfway through his second drink when someone sits down next to him at the bar. He’s maybe a bit greasy, but still attractive enough, so Cassian nods politely when he says hi, and contributes to the man’s comments on the weather for a few minutes. It’s obvious that the stranger is interested, and Cassian didn’t used to be flattered this easily, but, well. It’s been a rough couple of months.

“Do you use that everywhere?” the man asks after a while, nodding at the cane, and something about his demeanor puts Cassian on edge, but it’s been so long since someone looked at him with anything other than pity or concern that he ignores it and nods instead.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Cassian says with a self-deprecating twist of his mouth.

“Including the bedroom?” he asks, smirk turned leering, and Cassian barely has time to process his anger before Kay has somehow materialized at his side, cold arms crossed as he looms over the stranger.

“It would be in your best interest to leave now,” Kay tells the man, voice aloof but the threat clear, “unless you are equally interested in my removing your leg from its socket and beating you with _that_.”

The man scrambles out of his chair, and Cassian tilts his head to look at Kay. “I could’ve handled that.”

“I know,” Kay says, but his expression is soft, and it’s so _wrong,_ “but I must fulfill my role as best-friend-slash-bodyguard somehow. You don’t give me many opportunities, you know.”

“More, lately,” Cassian grumbles into his drink, and Kay doesn’t deign to give that a response. “How long’ve you been here?”

“Since approximately three-point-two minutes after you arrived. You’re very predictable.” Cassian rolls his eyes.

“At least _you’ve_ always been this overprotective.”

“And what, precisely, is that supposed to mean?” Kay asks in his I-would-be-rolling-my-eyes-if-it-were-physically-possible voice.

Cassian sighs. “Just. You know. Draven. Jyn. Kriffing _Bodhi_.”

“He’s scared,” Kay says, and it’s a statement of fact.

“I’m the one who should be scared,” Cassian says, and it’s not petulant, it _isn’t_. “I don’t know what this is and if or when this is going to get worse, if maybe one day I won’t be able to walk at all, and I don’t have any way to distract myself because I don’t have a _kriffing job_ anymore—” that’s a lie, or at least an exaggeration; he has a job, but it’s all desk work now, none of the important things he’s been doing his entire life, none of the things he’s _good at_ —the things he used to be good at— “and I can’t even go to the bar without some kriffing creep getting turned on by the fact that I’m in pain _all the kriffing time_ —so sure, Bodhi’s scared, but I’m scared too, and it’s even scarier because he treats me like I’m going to shatter and I can’t stop thinking that things might never get back to normal between us and I might never—”

“I feel like now is an appropriate time to interject that Bodhi is approaching our location,” Kay says, and Cassian doesn’t have time to be pissed because he’s too busy swiping at his face. He’s crying in public while nursing a drink; it’s completely counteractive to his desire that Bodhi not see him as weak.

Bodhi walks up, his hands in his pockets, glancing around quickly. “Kay told me there was some asshole he needed my help dealing with?”

Cassian glances sharply at Kay. “When did you call him?”

The lights in Kay’s eyes flicker. “Before I confronted the man. Do not worry, I was paying complete attention during your rant.”

Bodhi’s left hand is out of his pocket, now, fidgeting with the buttons on his jacket. “What happened?”

Cassian looks away. “Just some guy being really fetishizing. Of, like, my disability.”

Bodhi’s frown deepens. “Kriff.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.” Bodhi still hasn’t sat down, and it’s kind of uncomfortable; Cassian doesn’t like having to look up at people.

Cassian shrugs. “Not the worst thing that’s happened today.”

“Yeah, I, uh, heard what happened with Draven.” Bodhi sits down beside him, and that’s worse—he’s so close, and so concerned, and Cassian knows he should be appreciative, but he just wants to scream.

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“You wanted to talk about it plenty four minutes ago,” Kay interjects, and Cassian jerks his head up to glare at him. Kay stares back.

“Moment of weakness,” Cassian says, and then flinches at the wording. “Three months of weakness, rather, I guess.”

“You have definitely not been opening up to anyone for three whole months,” Bodhi jokes weakly, and Cassian twists his mouth but doesn’t say anything. “Precisely my point,” Bodhi says, and sighs.

“It doesn’t make you weak, you know,” he continues, nudging Cassian’s shoe with his foot until Cassian looks at him. “It doesn’t. I don’t see you any differently, and it’s understandable that you’re upset about Draven but he doesn’t see you any differently, he’s still desperate to get you assigned to him for paperwork aspects now even though your field reports were always shit, which is blatant favoritism if you ask me, but it’s also because he believes in you and you do good work—”

“If you don’t see me any differently, then why have you been treating me differently?” Cassian interrupts, and swallows as if he can force the words back into his body.

Bodhi stills, but doesn’t shy away. “I’m scared.”

Behind them, Kay coughs. Cassian would flip him off, but this isn’t the time.

“I know you’re really capable and everything, and I know you can make your own decisions, but I’m scared of you pushing yourself too hard and not making it home, and of you not taking care of yourself while you are home, and of you just generally acting like this doesn’t exist…”

“I’m scared you’ll think of me as less than who I used to be if I acknowledge it exists,” Cassian says quietly. It doesn’t hurt as much as he thought it would, but then again, his perception of pain has changed a lot recently.

“I won’t,” Bodhi says. Their knees brush.

“People are so patronizing and infantilizing about it, I… I couldn’t picture someone wanting to be in a relationship with me now. So. That’s another thing I’m scared of.” The words hurt his throat on the way out, and he knows Kay is two feet away, pretending not to eavesdrop, but screw it.

Bodhi grins. “You’re an expert marksman, and yet you’re so good at skirting around the target of your statement.”

Cassian rolls his eyes. “That was terrible.”

“Then hopefully this is less terrible: I like you, too. I want a relationship with you, too. Even now. Especially now. Just… now.”

Cassian can feel Kay smirking at them, so he flips him off with one hand as he reaches for Bodhi’s hand with the other. Bodhi’s fingers interlock with his, and Cassian focuses on the feeling of his hand, and the fact that this part of his body, at least, doesn’t hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr @basilhallward or on my disability/chronic pain sideblog @crippleprophet


End file.
